


Spasibo - Thank You

by ididthatonce



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Language Kink, Russian, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:29:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6844954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ididthatonce/pseuds/ididthatonce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky loves the way Russian sounds.  And, what do you know, Natasha's native language is Russian.  Sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spasibo - Thank You

**Author's Note:**

> This is an early birthday present to my friend. :D
> 
> I am sorely behind on the MCU and do not speak any kind of Russian so please forgive me for any and all failures on either of those fronts. And, obviously, if I've totally murked something up, let me know and I will correct it.

Bucky Barnes was never a great student. He found math and science unbelievably dull and couldn’t concentrate on them well enough to manage a grade above a C+. Literature confused him, what with all the terminology to remember and characters to keep track of in the stories he read. Really, the only class he ever excelled in was gym. At least, until his sophomore year of high school when, at the insistence of his grandmother, he enrolled in a semester of Latin. Suddenly, he was in a class that made sense. The subject came easily to him, as if the knowledge was already inside him. From that first class onward, he was fascinated with languages: how they sounded, how they felt in his mouth, how they were put together on a page.

By his 24th birthday, Bucky spoke Latin, Spanish, Greek, and French. He had learned to read German, although he tried to keep that one secret given the state of world affairs. He was knee-deep in a book on Russian when he was chosen to become the Winter Soldier, and he had difficulty in speaking it for decades. Still, he loved the sound of its dark vowels as they echoed around him every time he heard it spoken.

He heard Natasha speak in her native language for the first time by accident. She was suffering a headache and trying to explain what was wrong to Clint. Natasha had forgotten the word for “headache” and instead referred to it as a “Головная боль.”

Bucky’s ears perked up. “Golovnaya bol?” he tried the words out. “Headache?”

Natasha snapped her fingers at him. “Headache.” She echoed, and continued her conversation. A few seconds later, she turned to wink at him. “Спасибо,” She grinned, “thanks.”

She kept her mother tongue hidden for the most part after that. Occasionally, Bucky would hear the faintest hint of a Russian accent when she spoke English and they would share a knowing glance. It was nice to have someone around who appreciated the beauty of language, even if the shared interest was only subtle and unspoken.

The first time he heard her speak a full sentence in Russian was also the first time they kissed. They had been sitting awake long after the rest of the crew had gone to bed, neither feeling quite ready to lie down. Bucky had a favorite chair to sit in late at night, one right next to a floor-to-ceiling window that always provided excellent views. He stared out of it silently and felt Natasha perch on the arm of the overstuffed chair. She had quiet steps, but his heightened senses could feel her coming.

“Awake at this hour, too?” he asked, not looking directly at her.

“У меня проблемы собирается спать.” She admitted. “I have trouble going to sleep.”

He shifted his position to look directly at her. Her thick red locks were pulled back into a loose bun, revealing more of her beautiful face than he had ever seen before. Her eyes were dark and deep, but he could sense something behind them, a kind of underlying sadness that he understood too well. He nodded to her, slowly translating in his mind. “У меня такая же проблема.” He shared. “I have the same problem.”

She smiled weakly and he sprung forward to cup her face in his hands. Her skin was smooth and delicate, betraying the gruff demeanor she typically put forth. He kissed her, gently, kindly, savoring the sensation of her full lips entwined with his. His fingers crept into her hair and pulled her closer. He felt her strong hands grasp his waist. She climbed on top of him, opening her lips and letting her tongue trace along the outline of his. He smiled and parted his lips as well, allowing their tongues to meet. She pulled herself even closer to him, grinding onto the excitement that had already begun to form underneath his trousers. He was gone, lost in her hair and lips and the way she murmured his name.

Just then, an alarm went off somewhere on the ship and they pulled apart, ready to spring into action. Bucky groaned as he brought himself to his feet. Now that he knew the heat of her lips, he was going to have to work hard to think of anything else. Ever.

Weeks went by and both retained their stoic demeanors. Sometimes, he would wink at her from across the room and watch her try not to blush. Sometimes, she would pass by him in the halls and mutter “красивый” so only he could hear. “Handsome.” Then it was his turn to try and ignore the shade of red creeping up on his cheeks.

Finally, one sleepy Saturday morning, she caught him alone, pacing around a conference room no one ever used. She knocked on the doorframe and he stopped in his tracks, meeting her gaze.

“Hi.” He started weakly.

“Hi.” She echoed. Her hair was tied up again, but she was dressed to start the day already, squeezed into a tight black dress. Bucky gulped and felt completely underdressed in his sweatpants. Silently, she walked over to where he stood still and motionless, grabbing hold of his elbow. She whispered his name, letting her natural accent come through.

His knees buckled and he drew her in for a kiss. She moaned as he walked them backwards, joined at the lips, until they reached the table in the center of the room. It was rich ebony, cold in the morning air. He grabbed Natasha by the waist and placed her strong body on the table with ease. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to her. He pressed into her and she wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing them closer and closer together until he was pressed up against her.

“Ты мне нужен.” She moaned into his mouth. “I need you.”

Bucky wasted no time, tracing kissing down her neck as his hand found the hem of her dress and, with a little maneuvering, pulled it up until her stomach was exposed. He traced her navel with his thumb until her breath slowed into deep, heavy breaths. Toying with the elastic on her underwear, he remarked at the color. “I wouldn’t have expected red to be in your wardrobe.” He mumbled, catching her eyes.

She shrugged. “Они тебе нравятся?” She asked. “Do you like them?”

He smiled. “Я хотел бы их лучше.” He tried, positive he was mixing up the order of words. “I’d like them better off.”

She needed no more encouragement and slithered herself out of the silk red fabric. The scent of her arousal permeated the room and Bucky was overcome with his own desire. There was no turning back. Meeting her gaze, he palmed his own arousal. “Могу ли я?” He asked. “May I?”

She nodded more enthusiastically than he had ever seen. He freed himself from his pants and placed himself next to her opening, feeling the slickness of her folds begging for him. She thrust her hips forward to sheath him, enveloping his most intimate places in her warmth. He tried to kiss her, but couldn’t make any part of his body behave while he was pressed inside of her. Slowly, he withdrew himself and thrust in again, trying to memorize each sensation he was feeling.

“Трахаться” she sighed. “Fuck.”

He muttered every Russian swear word he knew as he entered her again and again, even throwing some in other languages in for good measure. Her hands found their way under his shirt and suddenly he was topless, blind to everything but the sensation of her hands on his chest and their bodies joined together. Without warning, she grabbed hold of his back and pulled him down on top of her, crashing her lips into his. She screamed into his lips and tensed all around him. Her sudden climax took him by surprise, and he grabbed hold of the table, her hips, her hair, anything he could find to ground himself. As her body began to relax, he felt himself reaching the edge, releasing as he cried out her name.

They laid still for a moment, still joined. Natasha stroked his back and whispered something that sounded like a lullaby. He placed gentle kisses along her neck and collarbone. “Спасибо.” He finally mumbled into her hair. “Thank you.”


End file.
